


And everyday we'll be together

by ThinkingCAPSLOCK



Category: Princess Tutu
Genre: F/M, Post Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-16 07:16:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/859385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThinkingCAPSLOCK/pseuds/ThinkingCAPSLOCK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The weeks are long and the nights are longer, but she doesn't mind. She doesn't mind one bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And everyday we'll be together

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a birthday present to my dear, dear friend Amanda, who I care very much about.

Mornings are spent lazing around and looking at each other under the sheets. 

Duck finds she wakes up earlier than Fakir (never by much, the longest was half an hour). She opens the windows or the blinds if she can manage, or lies in bed on the pillow next to his head, feathers fluffed. When she's lonely, she pecks his forehead with her beak until he groans and hits her head like an alarm clock.

There's a fifty-fifty chance that Fakir has breakfast and a hundred percent chance Duck will. Fakir hums when he cooks and smiles into his tea. Duck is quiet through the meal. He rarely burns the food, but if he does, Duck finds it hard not to pipe up about it. She quacks and nudges his leg as he runs around, trying to salvage a meal from the charred pan.

She often watches the sunrise alone. Fakir sweeps and tidies the room from the night before. The hut is small, but cozy. And always very warm.

-

During the day, they spend whatever time together they can by the lake. Duck swims and sits and naps on the water. She makes friends with other ducks, geese, and even a family of fishing eagles. She tells them stories and squawks when they catch fish clean from the water, bursting back out of the surface.

Duck prefers to eat bread and corn.

Fakir sits on the dock, in a chair or with his feet dangling in the water. Sometimes he's all smiles, sometimes he's all frowns (though Duck learns he's never really that angry anymore). The fastest way to cheer him was to sit beside him, and the fastest way to get a reaction from him was pull his socks into the lake.

Once a week, they go somewhere new for lunch. He makes sandwiches for himself and brings the crusts for her. She eats his sandwich before they get there, and Fakir is stuck eating the crusts once they arrive at the spot of their mini vacation. She curls on his lap and sleeps the afternoons away, as Fakir brings out paper, quill and ink, and writes a story.

When it rains, they stay by the small house under the awning, or sit in the window seat and watch the lake get covered in raindrops. Duck sometimes makes Fakir come outside and dance in the rain, but he always yells out when a drop of water goes down the back of his shirt. 

She presses her head against him if the thunder is too startling and he rests his hand on her head if a bolt of lightning catches him off guard. They look for rainbows when the rain lets up. 

-

The nights come slowly to the lake. The sun sets quietly, over dinner, changing the sky from blues to pinks and reds. When it gets dark, Fakir lights candles and lets the house glow from the inside. During the summer, they catch fireflies in jars. During the winter, they sit by the fireplace to keep warm.

Fakir writes stories, more slowly than he does during the day, but with more purpose. He writes of what happened and what he wants to happen. Duck hovers near his hands some days, reading tale after tale about a brave girl (one who turns into a ballerina and saves the world). Sometimes she goes for night swims as he works. 

If she bothers him enough, he'd dance for her. She'd do her best to return the favour when she could.

They always go to bed at the same time, right after Fakir douses all but one candle. She sits on the pillow and he'd make a quip about her feathers bothering his allergies. Their eyes close and the hut becomes still. Duck dreams of magic, ballet, and waking up the next morning beside him.

(She often dreams of waking up human again, but she's patient enough to wait another night for it to happen.)


End file.
